The Fundraising Illusion
By Bridge to the Heart

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Why We Give, What We’ve Forgotten, and How to Get Back There

You ever notice how donating used to be simple? Somebody knocked on your door, said, “We’re collecting for a family in need,” and you gave them five bucks. Done. No receipt, no slogan, no logo with a heart inside another heart. Just giving. 

 

Now? It’s a production. “Step right up! Donate today and you could win a cruise, a diamond necklace, or a toaster nobody asked for!” I thought I was helping orphans—why am I suddenly in a carnival?

 

They call it “fundraising,” but it feels more like shopping. Do I really need a raffle ticket, a concert, and a tote bag just to care about another human being? At this point, the mitzvah isn’t tzedakah—it’s finding the exit at the gala without pledging $1,000. 

 

But here’s the thing: real giving never needed any of this. Your grandparents didn’t need raffles or confetti. They just knew—if someone was hungry, you fed them. Quietly. With dignity. No bells, no whistles. Somewhere along the way, we forgot that. We stopped giving… and started auditioning for it.

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The Great Gala Confusion

Only in our community can you donate $1,000 at a dinner… and then spend the rest of the night pretending you’ve got an urgent phone call just to escape before dessert. 

 

You walk in—it’s not a dinner, it’s a Broadway show. The emcee’s yelling like it’s Madison Square Garden: “Ladies and gentlemen! One night only! A cause so inspiring… so powerful… so completely unrelated to the salmon… you’ll cry, you’ll laugh, you’ll wonder what just happened to your checking account!” And of course—there’s always a video. Always drone footage. Aerial shots of a building you’ve never heard of, scored like it’s the trailer for a disaster movie. Slow motion, swelling music—you’re not sure if you’re donating or bracing for a meteor. Meanwhile, a string quartet is playing Im Eshkachech Yerushalayim like it’s the Titanic going down, and you’re sitting there wondering: is this a fundraiser, a proposal, or a hostage situation?

 

Then comes the speech. Someone clears their throat into the mic: “This organization… is changing lives.” Big applause. Standing ovation. Tears. But let’s be honest—do you actually know what they do? Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter. You were moved, you gave, you left… with a full stomach and a $65 parking ticket. And the next morning? Boom. A WhatsApp promo for the next dinner: “It Starts With You.” (Which is basically marketing code for: “We have no idea what we’re doing, but hey—you figure it out.”)

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The Rise of the Raffle Revolution

Let’s talk raffles. Only in the Jewish world is the prize either a 12-day luxury tour of Israel… or a Shas set roughly the size of your washing machine. 

 

You’ve seen them everywhere. Posters in shuls. Banners on every website. Emails, texts, flyers on your windshield—by the time you walk into shul, you feel like you owe the raffle money just for breathing. 

 

Now, don’t get us wrong—we’re not anti-raffle. We’re just pro-mission. Here’s the awkward truth: since 1992, total charitable giving has quadrupled… but the number of people who actually give? Fell off a cliff. In 2000, 66% of households gave. By 2018, less than 50%. Why? Because we don’t just want to give—we want to give with a whole evening attached. The food, the drinks, the schmoozing, the “fancy restaurant” that’s really a rented tent, the wedding singers now performing more in backyards than in halls. And it’s not bad. It’s not evil. It’s just… not giving for the sake of the cause. It’s become something else.

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Donor Amnesia & No Gimmicks​

​​​​You ever walk into a room, forget why you’re there… and just leave with a snack? That’s basically how most people give tzedakah—felt inspired in the moment, totally forgot the whole thing by the next year. 

 

And it’s not just you. The average donor retention rate in the U.S.? Forty-two percent. Which means most people give once, feel great about themselves… and then disappear faster than your motivation after a dentist appointment. Not because they didn’t care—because they didn’t connect. That’s where Bridge to the Heart comes in.

 

We’re not handing out tote bags. No glossy brochures. No laminated charts that nobody reads. We’re not even asking for your money. We’re a map. A soul-GPS. Care about mental health in Jewish high schools? We’ll point you there. Infertility support? Special needs? Kids at risk? Right this way. Struggling families who can’t pay rent? We’ll guide you there. Cancer support? Addiction recovery? There’s a place for that too. Elder care, new immigrants, single parents—we’ll show you where to help. 

 

And we’re not about gimmicks. We don’t do manipulation. We don’t do shame. And we don’t pretend that 100% of your donation goes “straight to the widow’s left shoe.” Some of it goes to overhead. That’s normal. That’s healthy. Good people need offices, desks, and chairs that don’t squeak during Zoom meetings. 

 

But here’s the thing: If you’ve ever thought, “I just want to give to something I believe in—without the raffle, without the gala, without the glitter.” Welcome.

You’ve found your place. 

No gimmicks.

Just giving. 

Just heart.​ 

 

Because real giving doesn’t need lights, or prizes, or applause. It just needs you.​​